Turning Point
She enters other livesat the exact momenteverything is about to break.
What This Book Is
Turning Point is a true metaphysical experience told with the tension of a psychological thriller.
Several years ago, I discovered an ability I now experience consciously.
While my body sleeps, I leave my own life and enter someone else's.
I do not know where these events take place. I do not know whether they unfold in the same physical reality we live in. I can only speak honestly about what I experience.
Inside these transitions, I live through other people's lives from within. I feel their bodies, their fear, pain, confusion, love, and the exact moment when something in their life has to change.
Each chapter is a documentary record of a real transition into another body, another destiny, and a critical turning point.
The book was originally written in Russian and translated into English.
What Readers Say
★★★★★
Real Stories, Real Emotions
“From the very first pages, it kept me completely engaged, and with every story I felt as if I was living through the experience together with the characters.”
“Each story makes you reflect. You keep asking yourself: what would have happened if nobody had helped? How different would that person’s life have been?”
“This is a completely new format for me. It is about something much deeper, the value of a human being and the importance of not giving up on yourself.”
A memorable and thought-provoking read.
Carsten Dietrich-von Appen
Verified Amazon Purchase, Germany
Read a Free Excerpt
Selected fragments from the prologue and chapters are shown below.
The full stories are available in the book on Amazon.
PROLOGUE
"At first, I thought they were strange dreams. In those dreams, unfamiliar people appeared, but it was as if I knew them. I saw myself in the mirror, but the reflection was someone else’s. I felt the events as my own, made decisions, and acted.
Back then, I thought it was all happening to me.
Later, I understood: these were transitions.
Most often, I found myself in a woman’s body.
And with time, I understood why.
A woman is often seen as a role, an image, an object, a convenient figure inside someone else’s system of expectations. Her body and soul carry more than can be borne, yet she continues to stay silent, endure, and conform.
In every transition, I felt this as part of their path and my own.
After moving to the United States, the transitions began to happen more often. They became deeper, brighter, more precise. I began to observe the process consciously, to listen to the sensations and catch the signals from above.
I am, in a way, a jumper.
A guide.
A messenger.
Under someone else’s influence and control, I am moved to where a person needs decisive action. Where a person needs to be saved, in every sense of the word."
Story 1. Return
1.
"It happened one day when, while visiting his home, she accidentally overheard his parents talking:
“If he has fallen in love with that girl, this is a disaster, do you understand? They must not be allowed to be together. She will ruin his life!” his mother exclaimed in a loud whisper. “Look at who we are, and who she is, and her mother! The boy needs to go away to study, not get tangled up in love with some nobody...”
From that day on, she decided that she would never tell him she loved him.
Loved him more than life."
2.
"I hear her thoughts. They tangle and break off.
She is not asking herself why she is going to him.
Her feet simply carry her to where he is.
She tells herself that she only wants to see him. To support him.
I feel what is happening to her.
Yes, it will happen now or never!
Story 2. The Alley
1.
"I do not know what city I am in. But everything around me breathes Europe, the cobblestones, the old facades, the warm light from the windows, the cold pavement under my feet.
And inside her, anxiety.
I feel it in myself as my own.
As I walk, I hear her thoughts.
She is anxious.
Afraid of meeting that guy again. I see a vague image of him in my head, like a pulsing point."
2.
"The anxiety grows.
Step by step, her home comes closer. She looks at the entrance doors, no more than a hundred steps away.
She is almost there.
Almost safe.
And then, from the bushes, he comes out.
Abruptly.
He had been waiting."
Story 3. The Thin Line
1.
"The world is falling apart.
She cannot gather a single support, a single point she can hold on to.
She rubs her eyes again and again, trying to bring things into focus, but nothing works. Her thoughts are chaotic, the way they are when a person has been in hysteria and despair for some time.
For now, I am only an observer.
I do nothing yet.
I feel everything, but I cannot understand the reason for what is happening.
I only hear inside her:
“How could she! I told the truth! I hate her... I hate all of them...”
"
2.
"She goes to the kitchen, takes a stool, and brings it to the window in her room. She sets it down and steps onto it, first with her right foot, then with both.
With her left hand, she holds on to the frame and looks down again.
A heavy feeling dropped sharply into my lower stomach, and my legs filled with lead.
Fear clamped me in a vise."
Story 4. Flashing Lights
1.
"They seat me in a limousine.
We leave.
We are driving to an unknown place.
I try to look out the window, but because of the light inside the cabin, almost nothing is visible through the tinted glass.
Besides, I had no real understanding of where I was. There were no landmarks, and no sense of time."
2.
"I get up from the table and walk in the direction he had indicated.
I walk slowly, as if on ice, trying not to show my tension, while at the same time trying to take in the whole hall with my eyes.
And then, I felt IT.
Dozens of eyes were fixed on me.
Silently.
Piercingly.
As if they were burning through my skin.
And I knew that look.
It was a wet, sticky, worldly look, the look of those who had seen too much.
Who had gained access to everything and had long ago crossed that line beyond which only death can stop them, not someone else’s death, but their own."
Story 5. The Sign
1.
"I try to move, my arms, my legs, to open my eyes, but without result.
I do not like enclosed spaces.
Everything in my chest tightens, my breathing becomes quick and shallow.
I feel panic beginning to rise.
And then it dawned on me that I was locked inside someone’s body.
But for what? What am I supposed to do with “this”? How??
These questions kept turning in my head."
2.
"I am alone in the room.
The sounds are coming from the right, from behind the door, obviously from the corridor.
The door opens from time to time, as if someone is looking in and checking.
Very little time passes, and the door creaks again.
Someone comes in.
Presses the light switch.
Moves a chair closer to the bed.
Sits down.
Sits there, sighing.
Then his breathing grows heavier, and in the end I hear sobs."
Story 6. The Illusion of Calm
1.
"I open my eyes and see the ground rushing past, not far from my face.
Grass, some branches on the ground, flash by at great speed.
I try to lift my head and understand that I am racing through a dense forest on a horse, or a mare, I cannot say for sure. My arms are wrapped around her neck.
The horse is bolting."
2.
"His mood changed instantly, as if something had clicked inside him.
A quiet rage flooded him.
And without a single outward display.
Only his movements became as if in slow motion. As if he were controlling his body so it would not betray him."
Story 7. At the Crossroads
1.
"I come to myself and feel a wave of nausea, sharp, unchecked.
I open my eyes. I am vomiting.
The mouth of the toilet is right in front of my face.
I am clutching the toilet.
And I am a girl."
2.
"She jerked the blanket off her head.
“What now? What else do you want?” she shouted sleepily, her voice hoarse with irritation.
Behind the door, her mother’s displeased voice answers:
“Do not eat anything. They will be giving you anesthesia in a few hours.”
“I wasn’t going to,” the girl answers with strain in her voice, just so they would finally leave her alone.
Her voice trembled from helplessness, exhaustion, and constant resistance."
Story 8. Revelation
1.
"I lift myself slightly in bed and look around. Everything around me seems real, tangible, yet completely unknown.
A strange feeling arises in the body.
It feels different, denser, heavier, as if I am inside another shell.
I begin touching myself and suddenly understand clearly that the body is male.
There are no breasts, and below, male genitals."
2.
"Back then, it seemed like a coincidence.
Now it feels like the beginning.
Later, after some time had passed, I found myself in my ex boyfriend’s apartment in real life.
With an inner stillness, I began to recognize the space.
The corridor, the turn to the right when leaving his bedroom, the mirror on the right by the front door.
Everything stood exactly as I had seen it then.
The rooms were located in exactly the same places."
Story 9. Stay Silent. Don’t Move.
1.
"The body answered with unpleasant sensations.
I felt it as unwashed, tired, worn out.
Without a doubt, it was a female body.
I look at the clothes.
They had not been washed in a long time.
They had a stale smell.
The sleeves were slightly shiny with ground-in dirt.
Black jeans, the knees stretched out and worn shiny too.
I was terribly hungry.
I understood that she was waiting for someone."
2.
"Her legs ache from exhaustion. The jeans press into her.
The street gradually grows dark. Yellow squares of light come on in the windows of the houses, and because of that, her loneliness feels even stronger.
Behind those windows, people are having dinner, talking, watching television, living their ordinary lives.
And she walks beside an almost unfamiliar person, with a backpack on her back and an exhaustion that makes everything inside feel empty."
Story 10. The Unfinished
1.
"From her state, it was clear that she was feverishly searching for a solution.
Thoughts turn over and over in her head, looking for a way out.
For now, I cannot grasp what exactly is worrying her so much.
Before my eyes, I see the image of a younger girl. Right now, everything is tied to her.
This image appears in flashes: a face, hair, an anxious look, some inner plea for help. I feel that we have to get there in time, but I still do not understand what exactly is supposed to happen."
2.
"We pass the first intersection. She keeps driving straight.
The second.
She begins to slow down and stops on the left, by a tall fence, before reaching the gate.
She does not turn off the engine. She just sits there, looking at the gate.
It is warm inside the car, but a cold wave passes through the body. She looks at the gate as if behind it is a place that is frightening to enter and frightening not to enter."
Story 11. Acceptance
1.
"She was going through images in her head of the guys who were crazy about her and ready to do anything just to make her notice them.
But something in her gaze troubled me. As if there was something she wanted to hide from herself.
In the very depth of that gaze, something flashed that did not belong to all that confidence.
A small shadow, almost invisible, but alive.
She freezes in a light daze, looking at herself in the mirror. Her gaze drops.
As if the desire to admire herself had suddenly disappeared."
2.
"She throws her bag onto the bed to the right of the door.
Goes to the wardrobe.
Pulls off the tight dress.
After rummaging through the wardrobe for a little while, she pulls on a bright, tight fitting T shirt and very short shorts that emphasize the body more than cover it. But I even liked it.
She had set herself up for a wild evening where she would be the star and bathe in attention no matter what.
Alcohol, music, dancing, and other people’s eyes, that was what she needed now.
She was driving every thought away."
Story 12. Through the Glass
1.
"He looks as if he has known me for a long time, my gaze, my reactions, my silence.
And I sit across from him, trying to understand why his warmth does not awaken a natural response in me.
I do not understand what I am doing there, because I have a husband, and I love him.
I feel an inner resistance to what is happening and cannot in any way realize that I am inside someone else’s body."
2.
"I am confused.
It feels like some kind of obsession. Now, as I write these lines, I know what was really happening, but in that moment everything was as if in a fog, as though I were standing behind glass and watching.
As if none of it was happening to me, yet I was there, with this man, with his children, and with anxiety and worry about my husband, whose presence I once again could not feel in “my” life."
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